Room
by starskipper
Summary: A short oneshot messing around with being stuck in the Ghost Zone.


There are millions of doors in the Ghost Zone.

Some of them lead to small rooms housing small ghosts, decorated very little. Some lead to other worlds in other times, where many things are different. Some have even evolved into larger realms that emulate the obsession of the ghost occupying it.

However, there's a certain room that's a bit..._different._

You've heard rumors about the room, and you've heard the rumors of the terrifying ghost inside. But you're curious, and many of the things you've heard seem to contradict themselves. How could someone be kind and angry? Or dangerous, but perfectly docile and friendly? Besides, the ghost you had in mind was going to help you. You hoped.

The door is a little hard to find. It doesn't look much different from every other door, besides the little white dots trailing erratically up the sides. Wary, you open the heavy door and step inside.

The very first thing you notice is how comfortable the place looks. A crackling fireplace, a table full of food and treats, a plush bed that looks like it might explode with pillows. The whole room is doused in a warm glow, unlike the outside. It even smells nice, like strawberries and fresh cookies. Is that an oven? You understand why someone would never want to leave here, but something else catches your attention.

A small boy sits on the floor, unmoving, next to the bed. His legs are drawn in close, and his arms wrap around his body. His head is buried in his arms. It's not the most unnerving thing you've ever seen, but the two glowing eyes come pretty close. Half- blocked by his white hair, they stare at you, watching your every move until he notices you're looking at him. The young ghost holds your eye contact for a second, then drops his gaze back to the floor.

You could leave now. He would probably leave you alone if you just went back to your own room and tried to fix the problem yourself. But you're caught in between feeling terrified and sympathetic. Ghosts were obsessive creatures, and this one wasn't exempt. You heard that this particular ghost had an obsession with heroism or helping or something, but the majority of people you talked to warned you never to actually go for help. He never even leaves his room anymore, they said. Many even scoffed and said "I'd rather you go punch his lights out." Very few, when you asked about the safety of wanting assistance, told you it was a good idea. "Just don't try a double-cross and you'll be fine." Which you had no intention of doing.

You had figured with no one to help in years, he could use a little activity.

Instead of leaving, you decide to stay. It takes you a while before you work up the courage to speak.

"Excuse me?"

It sounded like a squeak more than a confidant question, but your mental chastisement was interrupted by a slight shift in the corner. The boy had lifted his head, and was now looking straight at you. You hoped that was curiosity on his face, and not maliciousness.

You clear your throat. "Yes. Um. Well, I was, ah," no stammering, ask him straight up. It couldn't hurt. Probably. "See, I have a little problem and I'd heard you could help me fix it?"

He sits up a little straighter, not taking his eyes off of you.

So far, so good. You're not dead yet. Well, you are, but -

"Like what?"

You're surprised. You... were actually under the assumption that he didn't talk. Or couldn't. His voice is low, almost like a whisper, and scratchy from disuse. It takes you a while to get back to your question.

"It's a... Slight problem with my... My plants. They're getting violent, and one of them tried to bite my head off, and they're not supposed to do that, and I thought maybe you could, um, help me with those? But only if you want to. You don't have to."

Slowly, he unfolds himself from the tight ball he was in and sits up, cross-legged. He's still staring straight at you, only now his gaze is even more intense. _Oh_, this was not a good idea. You could have gone to _literally_ anyone else, you probably could have fixed the problem yourself. You had friends here, sort of, people who weren't about to kick you out of their room or yell at you or blast you into oblivion.

Instead of doing any of those, however, the ghost kid regards you warily for a second.

"You're telling the truth?"

"Y-yes."

He seems to think about getting up, but stops and floats back a few inches. His hands begin to glow a little, and you tense up. Not that you weren't tensed before.

"Prove it."

Oh, goodness. You have nothing on you right now. You hastily explain this, while tripping over every other word. You could go back and get something, you promise.

His eyes narrow a little at your promise, but he tells you if you can prove it, he might consider it.

You rush back out the door. It felt like... You remember when you were alive, running up the stairs from the basement because you were sure an invisible something was behind you, and that something was probably going to kill you if it caught you. It felt like that.

Before you close it, you steal a glance back inside, expecting a glare, or maybe just the scene you could see when you first walked in.

You see the kid peeking his head outside, giving you a curious, almost relieved look. In that second, all the rumors about how dangerous he was seemed twisted, exaggerated, even made-up. Of course he doesn't like to leave his room. You can't take an obsession away from someone, it'll drive them crazy. Suddenly, you feel awful.

He catches your eye again and twists his face back into a frown. You quickly look away and dash back through the empty green and purple space, barely hearing the clunk of a shut door.

What happened, you wonder?

—

**(snnnnnnxxxxxnNNXN-)**

**Gah! What?! Who? Where'sa fire? How'd... Wait. Oh.**

**Sorry fer overlookin' a bunch of obvious facts and stuff. But it's an AU and a oneshot, so****… ****I have no explanation. Yaaay?**


End file.
